Eyes Wide Open
by pocketcucco
Summary: The masks and the carnival were what brought them together. What they didn't know was that those two very same things would eventually tear them apart.
1. Prologue

I've been wanting to write a fic about these two for a really long time now. Stories like this have most likely been done before, but this has been nagging at the back of my mind for a few months now so I decided to just go ahead and go for it. Hopefully this won't be super long, but I say that about everything nowadays and they always spiral out of my control, haha.

* * *

_**Eyes Wide Open  
**_**Prologue**

Dotour and Aroma were an odd couple, to say the least. The husband was meek and quiet, never one to speak out of turn; that is, if he decided to speak at all. Meanwhile, his wife - who'd supposedly been raised in the _western _part of town and made herself a regular customer at the milk bar, if the rumors were true - was quite the social butterfly, fluttering from one end of a party to the next with no difficulty in the slightest. Dotour would either hover in a corner or follow his wife like a forlorn puppy, never once uttering a word.

And yet this unlikely couple was the closest thing a small place like Clock Town had to nobility, what with the vast fortune Dotour had inherited from his family. It was also said that the man had a smart head on his shoulders, despite his shyness; something he would prove when he was eventually elected mayor of the town.

But that wouldn't happen for many more years.

Anju knew her mother had harbored a great disdain for the two for as far back as she could remember. Although the Stock Pot was a rather successful cafeteria and inn, they didn't make nearly as much money as Dotour and his wife, who had risen easily from obscurity and were thrust into the public spotlight.

"It's not that I _want _the same attention," Anju had once overhead her mother telling her father late one evening. "I just don't think it's fair, you know? People like them."

"As long as we're happy," Tortus would always reply - he was never one to gossip. "And I am happy."

Anju didn't care about Dotour and Aroma either way. She had too much to think about, what with the chores that needed to be done around the Stock Pot. From time to time, when they both had a spare moment, her father would try to teach her to cook, but she had little interest in that. She preferred to spend her playtime at the laundry pool, where she could play to her heart's content and without interruption.

She saw Dotour and Aroma's son there once, on a rainy day in the middle of fall. He was easy to spot, even from a distance; he had the same deeply purple hair as his father. The boy was sitting at the pool's edge with a friend of his, talking while they threw bits of food to the fish that swam there.

She recognized their uniforms - they were Bombers. Mother told her often not to speak to the Bombers, even if they did call themselves 'allies of justice'. (Mother was so suspicious sometimes.)

So Anju turned and left, and didn't see him again for a long time. Not for another year.

It was the first night of the carnival, and one of the few times of the year that she was allowed to stay up far past her bedtime. She didn't recognize him right away, since everyone in attendance wore a mask; which wasn't mandatory, but an unspoken rule that the entire town followed. To arrive to the carnival without a mask was...simply strange, to say the least. Even the tourists wore their own. Anju herself had spent the better part of the year crafting hers until it resembled one of the fairies that sometimes fluttered about in the fields just beyond the town's gates.

There was dancing in the main square, at the base of the massive clock that gave the town its name. Anju could see her own parents flitting back and forth in the multicolored lights of the fireworks, as well as the infamous Dotour and Aroma. Tonight, however, her mother was too content to shoot them any looks. Anju had even caught her exchanging pleasantries with Aroma at the carnival's start.

Anju stood off to the side, sipping a cup of warm cider while she watched the adults dance to and fro. Part of her wanted to join in the fun, but what was the point in dancing alone? She'd rather drop dead than humiliate herself like that.

It was then that a voice - small and timid - managed to rise above the sounds in the square.

"Um...hello."

She turned.

And found herself face-to-face with a Keaton.

The Keaton with the voice of a boy held out his hand.

"Do you want to dance?"

_Who are you?_ she almost asked. But she took his hand instead, and he pulled her gently into the crowd.

Neither of them were very good. That much was apparent from the start, when he pinched her toes and she nearly pushed him over. Their twirls were clumsy, their steps wavering - but it was difficult to be cross when they were surrounded by the warm laughter of the crowd and the bright lights of the fireworks.

Truth be told, it was the most fun Anju had had in a long time, even if her feet would be sore for days after.

"Where did you get your mask?" she suddenly asked, when the sounds and lights began to dim.

"From a friend of mine. I like Keatons."

"My grandma's told me stories about them. Have you seen one before?"

"I heard they're not real... But I think they are. I want to see one someday."

She smiled, even though he couldn't see it. "Me too."

They danced only for a while longer before they parted at the edge of the square. Anju could see her parents beckoning to her. It was time to go.

It was too soon, she thought. She'd just barely met this boy, and he seemed so nice.

"What's your name?" she asked, shyly wringing her hands at her front. "I'm Anju."

The boy lifted his mask, ever so slightly. His eyes were the warmest shade of red, his smile soft and boundlessly friendly. She recognized him instantly as Dotour and Aroma's boy, and the one she'd seen at the laundry pool that day back in the fall.

"I'm Kafei," he said, still grinning.

And she wanted nothing more than to see him again.


	2. Dawn of the First Day

Thank you so much for your interest in the story so far! I've been dying to write this for a long time, and it feels really good to finally get it out. Kafei and Anju are one of my favorite couples in the series, and it's so much fun to write about them. And sad too of course. Hopefully I can do them and Majora's Mask justice!

But anyway, you might notice in this chapter and future ones that I've taken some very small liberties with schedules and the like (nothing too drastic) and named a few unnamed NPCs. And I won't be limiting myself to just writing in-game scenes that you witness as Link; there will be a lot of new ones as well, especially in upcoming chapters. So I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Dawn of the First Day  
****72 Hours Remain**

When Kafei woke that morning, he was still bound to the body of a child.

He thought he'd be used to it by now, nearly a month after his encounter with that masked forest imp (since when did they start wandering out of the woods?), though he'd also hoped beyond hope that he'd be back to normal.

But still. There was nothing he could do for now. He'd resigned himself to that fact a long time ago.

Kafei pushed himself off his borrowed cot and blinked the sleep from his eyes. The room behind the Curiosity Shop - his current home - was cold in these early morning hours, and he hurried to change into his longer-sleeved clothing. He'd just started brushing a hand through his hair when he heard Tak bustling around from the front of the shop.

"This place is a mess," his friend muttered under his breath as he pushed a side door open. His arms were full to bursting with the new valuables he'd..."obtained" from his overnight business, and he nudged a few boxes out of the way with the heel of his shoe.

Kafei folded his arms over his chest. "Any news?"

"Nothin' yet. You'll be the first to know, like I promised."

It was an exchange they'd shared nearly every morning since his transformation, but Kafei still couldn't help but sigh. His disappointment was quickly giving way to anxiety now that the carnival was so close - only three days away, and he was still stuck in this body and his wedding mask was still gone.

"Soon, though," Tak said, like he did every day. "I have a good feeling. That guy always crawls back eventually."

"He stole the mask _weeks _ago. Shouldn't he have tried to sell it to you by now?"

"I dunno. Maybe he's keeping it as a trophy for a bit before he caves. But the carnival's coming up, and he probably thinks he can get a better price for it. Demand's gonna be high 'n all."

"Unless the moon _does_ fall-"

"Don't talk like that. That thing ain't falling," Tak said, in a voice that invited no argument. He threw his newest purchases in a nearby crate and dusted off his hands. "I'll keep an eye out for your mask, just in case he sells it to someone else. What'd it look like again?"

"It was gold, and made to look like the sun. Two eyes, and-"

"Ah, yeah, I remember now."

Kafei tried not to roll his eyes. Tak was a good friend - the only one he'd kept from childhood, aside from...her - but he was exasperating more often than not.

Tak seemed to take note of this, however, and reached down to squeeze Kafei's shoulder. His expression was oddly serious now.

"You'll get it back before the carnival. It'll turn up," he promised. "But, you know... There's probably more to do than just wait for the thief to turn up. You're startin' to remind me of your-"

"Of my father. I know."

Tak gave an approving nod, but Kafei felt his stomach turn. _You're starting to remind me of your father. _Indecisive, confused, sitting back and waiting for things to happen.

But Tak wasn't finished. "You're a man of action. Remember when we were kids, and we spent all our time fillin' out those stupid notebooks? A lot of those little jobs were your idea."

"I know. I...think I have an idea. I'm just-"

"You're just...?"

_Afraid. Nervous. _But he couldn't speak the words. He wouldn't. So Kafei stopped, shook his head.

"It's not really important. The Trading Post opens soon, doesn't it? You should go."

Tak peeked out the back door and grunted. "You're right. I'd better head out. Good luck today," he said before he left. He all but slammed the door on his way out, sending one of the more precariously-placed crates crashing to the floor. Kafei stayed on the cot and watched an empty bottle and several glass balls roll across the wooden boards.

Kafei let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Could they really find his wedding mask? There was so little time left...only three days now, and the clock was ticking. He was sure he'd have the mask and his body back by now, but weeks had passed and...nothing. No sign of his mask's thief, and rare sightings of the Skull Kid who'd gone and changed everything.

Tak was right, though. He had to do something, anything - the inaction was making him anxious to the point that he felt his legs and fingers twitch. He wanted to go out and solve the problems himself, even though he knew that was quite impossible with his current body. If the wrong person saw him...

He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Things would be fine. He just had to be careful.

Kafei reached under his cot. The letter he'd written the night before was still there, safe and sound. He ran his hand over the smooth envelope, over the name written in careful ink on its surface. He whispered it out loud, just to himself, in the dusty silence of the backroom. He hadn't spoken her name in _so long_, just the sound of it sent a pleasant shiver up his spine.

He had to see her again. To speak to her. To hold her in his arms and press his lips to the gentle curve where her throat met her shoulder.

Today, he'd finally take matters into his own hands.

Kafei donned his old Keaton mask and darted out the back door before he could change his mind.

* * *

Mother was on a rampage again.

"I'm going to have to kick half of them out, I think," she said as saying while Anju shuffled through a neat stack of inn-related documents. "I was awake all night because of that stupid instrument. And those two twins dancing until early morning. Don't any of them sleep?"

"I can ask them later, if you'd like," Anju offered, mostly to shut her up. She loved Mother - she really, truly did - but sometimes, her nerves wore thin and she couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, don't trouble yourself. dear. I can take care of it. Just make sure you get lunch to your grandmother. She's getting so _skinny_. Does she eat when you ask her to?"

Oh, right. It was her turn to cook - or at least attempt to - today. Anju shut her eyes and tried not to scream.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yes. I'm fine."

"Good. Very good." Mother checked her hair in the mirror, patting it gently with one hand. "I have a lot to take care of today, but I'll be back before late. I trust you can handle things on your own?"

"Of course."

Anju took her place at the front desk after Mother left. It was a surprisingly dull morning, despite the fact that the carnival was just around the corner; less than three days now, to be precise, but Anju tried her best not to think about it. It brought on too many memories - some good, but mostly bad - at the moment, and she had to stay focused for potential customers.

Still, only a few people came through the doors that morning. The first was a boy, who claimed the last reserved room under the name of Link (who let their young child stay in an inn by himself, anyway? Anju was curious, but sometimes it was best not to ask). Later a Goron trudged through, only to be disappointed by the lack of rooms.

It was slow work, all in all, but it kept her mind busy and she wished there was more of it to keep her from thinking about...certain things. And, try as she might, she couldn't stop herself; she thought about the upcoming carnival, about a certain promise, about a tall, red-eyed man with surprisingly soft hands and softer words.

_In three days, I was getting married. _Am_ getting married, _she amended. There was still time for him to show up. He would. This was Kafei, after all, and he'd never broken a promise without good reason.

(Though there was that time when they were still teenagers, and they'd just recently broken up, and he left for the Romani Ranch-)

She stopped that line of thought before it could finish.

Anju glanced at the clock on the wall beside her, and although it was just barely noon, she decided to work on her grandmother's lunch. There were no rooms left for customers anyway, and if she stood at that desk any longer, she'd go absolutely crazy. Mother would understand.

She left her post and threw all her concentration into the kitchen - she was going to need it anyway, with her skill level. Anju sighed as she opened the cupboards. Father had tried so hard to teach her how to cook before he disappeared, but none of his skill had rubbed off on her or Mother. She wondered what he'd think of the Stock Pot now that it was an inn and no longer his beloved cafeteria. Could he still be proud of her? She thought he might, but there was always that niggling doubt in the back of her mind.

She rifled through the supplies, setting aside a few vegetables to be washed and chopped before she came across the cucco leftovers from the day before. Anju picked them up delicately, but still, she shuddered until they was laying on the countertop. Something - she was never sure what - about cuccos gave her the goosebumps. She remembered visiting her friend Cremia at the Romani Ranch as a small child and flinging one of the birds out of her hands when the red-headed girl handed it to her.

A gentle smile crossed her face. It was instinctive; she didn't even think about it. _Kafei teases me about that all the time_.

And then the knife stopped in midair. Her hands shook. She let her arm drop down to the counter, where it brushed an untidy pile of carrot slices.

Stop thinking about him. No more. Focus on the task at hand.

She picked up the knife again and continued to chop. She thought about vegetables and tried her best to keep her strokes even and clean.

A simple meal took little time for her to prepare. Grandmother didn't eat much anymore; this cucco and vegetable soup would probably be a bit more than she could handle, if she decided to eat at all. Still, Anju prepared a nice platter and carried it to her grandmother's room.

_Kafei loves this soup_, she thought before she could stop herself, _so long as I'm not the one preparing it._

That gave her pause. She shook her head as if to dispel it, and tried to collect herself before she opened the bedroom door.

The old woman was seated by her fire with a book in her lap. It was the same one she'd read and re-read since Tortus's disappearance (Anju barely let herself dwell on that) and death. Even from where she was standing, Anju could see the colorful illustrations of the Giants. She remembered a time when her grandmother had told her that story, over and over again.

Grandmother didn't even look up. "Oh, Tortus," she said with the smallest of sighs. "I've already had lunch."

"Grandmother... I'm Anju! Tortus was my dad. Your son. Remember? And you haven't had lunch yet. I just made this."

Anju held up the plate, like a peace offering. But, as always, Grandmother was having none of it.

"I've already had lunch, dear. Now take that away."

"Not eating is bad for you. Please eat..."

Her grandmother heaved a sigh and slammed her book shut. "Didn't I say that I already ate, Tortus? Impossible child!"

_I shouldn't be surprised_, Anju told herself, but she felt the exasperation wash over her anyway. Fine, then. If Mother was upset, then she could come down and feed her in-law herself. Anju swept out of the room, muttering a quick, "Don't eat my food. I give up," before she left.

She could have sworn she heard Grandmother's sigh of relief just before she closed the door. Anju shook her head and carried the tray up to her and Mother's bedroom. Who was the impossible child now?

The front door opened and closed while she was still at the top of the stairs.

"Miss Anju! A letter for you!"

The postman. Hope soared in her chest before she could stop it. It was probably something from a customer trying to get a late reservation, she told herself, even though those sorts of letters were usually addressed to her mother. Or maybe it was from Cremia. Or-

The postman was holding the envelope out to her when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She took it with barely trembling hands and read over the address.

There was her name, plain and simple. But the curl of the letters, the slightly uneven scrawl, the curve of the first symbol in her name...

"Ah!" she squeaked before she could stop herself. "Uh, um, what's this?"

"I have delivered this to you!"

"Wait! This, this letter...where did you-"

"From the postbox."

Anju could barely suppress the excitement in her voice. "I know that! The postbox where? Which part of town?"

"From the postbox somewhere."

How could he be so calm? Her hands curled around the envelope, holding it close to her chest. Her breath was coming in frantic hitches and starts now.

"That's not what I mean! Please tell me! You must know how important it is that-"

"It's a secret."

"I must know! Please!"

But the postman was shaking his head. "Privacy is very important. I cannot tell you where it came from."

"Please... I must find out, please..."

"I'm sorry, Miss Anju. I have to finish my route now, before it gets too late. Time is of the essence, and we don't have much of it!" He tipped his hat, gave her a quick bow, and turned to leave. "Good afternoon, Miss Anju!"

"But..."

He wasn't listening anymore. The postman left, and the lobby fell silent again, save for the tick of the clock and the gentle murmurings of the guests on the second floor.

For the moment, she was alone. Alone with this letter and the ghost of its writer.

She held the envelope up again, studied it in the lobby's fluttering lights. It was his handwriting on the front; she knew this absolutely. She had dozens of letters covered with the same scrawl, all piled neatly in the box beneath her mattress. If she closed her eyes and really thought about it, she could even recite a few of them from memory.

This was, quite possibly, the most important letter she'd ever received in her life. She had to open it. But when she put her fingers to the seal, she found that she couldn't. And why? After so many days of waiting, so much time left to worry and to cry... The envelope should have been in shreds on the floor by now.

She slipped her nails beneath the seal. She started to pull.

But she still couldn't do it.

Something was stopping her. It gathered in her chest, heavy and coiled and hot. It taunted her.

Anju set the letter aside, blinking tears from the corners of her eyes. She wiped uselessly at them with the heel of her hand, but now that they'd started, she knew they wouldn't stop.

The letter stared up at her from the counter. "Please just come home," she murmured, half to herself and half to that ghost.

The door opened again, and she quickly stuffed the envelope down the pocket at the front of her dress.

"Hello," she started, voice cracking, "and welcome to the Stock Pot-"

The words died in her throat.

A boy entered, holding a mask in his hand. The face was white and the eyes were hollow, but the hair surrounding them was that familiar shade of purple. Looking at it made her feel as though she'd been kicked in the stomach.

"Um," she said. The boy's gaze was expectant, but soft. He didn't say a word; he only held up the mask.

Anju had seen it a few times before. Madame Aroma had a handful made after her son's disappearance, and distributed them throughout the town in lieu of posters. Anju wasn't sure if they were more effective or not, but seeing people wearing them - seeing that familiar hair all over the town - was, for a time, far too much to bear. Mother had put an end to it, though; and not for the first time, Anju was glad for her sharp tongue.

But it looked like one of the masks had survived, and now it was in the hands of this child.

Still...something about him wasn't quite..._childish. _She couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"How did you get that? Are you...are you looking for Kafei?" Anju asked, in spite of her misgivings. The boy nodded, and she wiped at her eyes again.

"Really? Oh, I thought..." But she stopped herself, took a slow breath. The letter was heavy in her pocket. "Never mind. I... I have a request. I might have a clue...about Kafei...that'll help you find him. If you could - if you have time - could you come to the kitchen tonight? Around midnight? We'll talk then... Now's not a good time."

The boy studied her for a beat with those blue eyes of his. He nodded again, still without speaking. He couldn't have been, what, more than ten or eleven years old? And yet there was something almost unnaturally serious about him. And something...warm. Yes, that was it.

Somehow, someway, Anju didn't feel quite as afraid as she did before.


	3. Night of the First Day

****Sorry this took such a long time for me to post! I participated in NaNoWriMo all of last month and things got really hectic. Things should get back on track soon though, and the next few chapters should be longer and more action-packed. Thanks for sticking with me! :)

* * *

**Night of the First Day  
****60 Hours Remain**

Anju didn't remove the letter from her pocket again until after the sun had set. She took her time with the end of the day chores, putting unusual care into filing away the reservation book and closing up the kitchen. She checked on her grandmother (who was still awake, surprisingly) before she took the steps up to the second floor slowly, one at a time, listening to their gentle, wooden creaks in the nighttime silence. The clock downstairs inched its way closer to midnight. Closer to her meeting.

But she had to read Kafei's letter first. She had to come up with a clue to give that blue-eyed boy.

Her and her mother's room was blessedly empty. Anju shut the door behind her and sat on the edge of her bed. Crickets chirped outside her window as she pulled the envelope from her dress with shaky fingers.

She took a quiet breath. There it was again, in the palms of her hands. His handwriting. _His_. He'd written this, just for her. He was still alive, and he was still thinking of her. Anju's fingers curled around the envelope, held it closer.

_The news in this letter could still be bad_, the voice in the back of her head chided. But Anju pushed it away. Those were things she didn't want to hear. Not right now, when he seemed so close. Closer than he'd been in weeks.

She curled her fingertips around the envelope's seal. No more fear. No more apprehension. Without really thinking about it, she ran her nails beneath the seal, breaking it before she had a chance to stop herself.

Folded paper poked out of the envelope. Anju's breath caught in the back of her throat. She took it gingerly and held it in the palms of her hands.

She only had to glance over the handwriting to know it was from him. There was no doubt about it. She traced a finger over the symbols, imagined him scrawling them out by weak candlelight.

She read the letter, hungrily taking in each sentence, each word. It confirmed that he was still alive. He was okay. That alone filled with a strange sort of peace that she hadn't felt in over a month.

But it also said he couldn't come back home yet; not until he'd completed one last task before the wedding.

Still. He wasn't dead. Only missing. She set the letter on her lap and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

But there was something else in his letter. He'd mentioned a change - he didn't say what specifically - but it was enough to put him in hiding for over a month. What could have happened that scared him that badly? Kafei was never scared... He was always the brave one, the one willing to smash the spiders and walk her home in the dark of night.

Anju wanted desperately to write a response, to tell him how happy she was and that she wanted to see him. That everything would be okay, and they could put the wedding off for another year if he needed. But, thanks to the postman, she had no address, nowhere to send it. So she stared down at the letter, willing her good intentions to Kafei, wherever he might be.

No. Wait. Maybe that blue-eyed boy knew something. Maybe that was why he showed up when he did - right after the postman. Maybe he knew something that she didn't...

Anju immediately jumped from her bed, grabbed a pen and slip of paper from her desk. She wrote fervently, pouring everything she wanted to say out onto the paper, pausing only to re-read a few passages and cross others out. She made sure to mention the boy as well; perhaps Kafei would be more willing to meet with him, a stranger, than her.

But, mostly, she didn't want to admit that she was afraid to meet with him. Afraid to see what he'd become. Afraid to see who he might be with.

In the end, her own letter was a complete mess of scribbles and cucco-scratch; but it didn't matter. Not anymore. All that mattered now was that he'd get her response. She set the pen aside and folded her note into squares.

Someone was pounding up the stairs. At first Anju dismissed it as a patron returning late to their room - but she knew those steps.

Mother.

She was still sliding her own envelope and Kafei's back in her dress pocket when Mother came through the door.

"Good evening," Anju managed with a weak smile.

But Mother was having none of it. She nodded to Anju's hands, still poised over the pocket. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to your mother."

"I..." But Mother's gaze was too hard. Too demanding. She stepped forward and took Kafei's envelope from Anju's hands.

"Mother, please, that's mine-"

But she'd already seen the signature. Her brow furrowed and she made a noise crossed somewhere between a growl and a snarl.

"This had better be an apology," she said, furious. "Is he finally apologizing to you? Did he tell you where he's run off to?"

"No, but-"

"Then ignore it. Don't respond to it. Don't go looking for him."

Anju's hands tightened into fists. "I have to. I'm...I can't give up on him. Mother, I-"

"You love him. I know."

Her mother seemed to weaken then. Something inside her folded, and her anger began to subside. She lowered herself to the bed across from Anju's, her gaze focused on the cracks in the floor.

"I understand how you feel, Anju," she said, slowly. "Your father...he did the same thing to me, don't you remember? He just up and left. And I waited for him, fool I was. I waited and kept loving him. But he didn't come back." She looked up at her daughter then, and her gaze was hard. Determined. "I don't want you to go through the same thing."

He's not like that. Kafei would never do that. Anju almost said it, but the words caught in her throat. She couldn't. So she nodded.

"I know, Mother. It's just..."

Her mother stood up then and put a gentle hand to her cheek. "I understand. But you need to let him go. Don't be the fool I was."

"You're...you're not a fool, Mother."

"This is probably just like the last time. When he ran off to the ranch with that-"

"I don't want to talk about that."

Anju spoke with such finality that Mother almost snapped away. But instead she stroked her daughter's cheek and returned to her bed.

"We have a lot of preparations to make for the next few days. Make sure you get plenty of rest," she said.

"I will, Mother," Anju said. "I just...have to go downstairs and take care of a few things. Clean the kitchen."

"You haven't taken care of that already?" But her tone wasn't admonishing; only tired. "Don't be too long."

Anju left the room and closed the door behind her with a sigh. The inn was silent at that time of night, save for the heavy tick-tock of the clock in the lobby. She knew she was probably late for her meeting with the boy - and she wouldn't have blamed him for leaving or ignoring the ravings of a heartbroken girl - but, when she entered the kitchen, he was waiting for her beside the stove. His fairy fluttered beside him in lazy circles.

Gratitude welled up in her chest.

"Thank you for coming," she said immediately. "I understand that you're probably busy with your own things, but... this really means a lot to me."

The boy only nodded. Anju took her own letter from her pocket and clasped it in her hands, like a security blanket. Her heart was thudding in her chest, so loud that she was sure the boy and his fairy could hear it.

"I'm sorry for troubling you so late at night, but this is about...him. I...I got a letter from...him...earlier today." She suddenly laughed, but she could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Strange, isn't it? Getting a letter from a missing person... But there's absolutely no mistaking it's from him! It's clear...to me..."

The boy was still watching her, absolutely patient, but she realized she was rambling and needed to get back on track. Anju thrust out her hand, the letter nearly crumpled in her palm.

"Please! I wrote this letter to him, and if you could...I would appreciate it so much if you put it in the postbox. When he reads this, you should be able to meet him. And please...tell him that Anju is waiting for him. And..." She paused then, her breath hitching in the back of her throat. "Tell me how he looked. I'm scared. I...I can't go."

She waited for the boy to reject her. To take his fairy and simply walk away. But he took the letter from her hand, cradling it gently in his, as if he could sense its importance. Anju's heart soared.

"Thank you...very much," she said, clasping her hands together at her front. "This means more to me than I can say."

* * *

It was nearly midnight, and it was unseasonably cold. Kafei huddled beneath one of the scraggly trees in the northern district of town, rubbing his hands together for warmth. One of the Bombers was out playing with a balloon, and the local guard was keeping watch (though, truth be told, he seemed to be dozing) at his post. Still, no one seemed to take notice of the purple-haired boy with the mask, and he was perfectly fine with that.

Tak's words that morning struck a chord. They spurred him to North Clock Town, the same place where he'd run into the thief that took his mask and the Skull Kid who changed him back into a child. The chances of seeing them again were painfully slim, but he was tired of holing himself up in the Curiosity Shop's back room, surrounded by lost and stolen items.

A commotion from the gate interrupted his thoughts. The old woman from the bomb shop was talking quietly to the guard; she seemed to have woken him from his sleep. Kafei ignored them and turned his attention back to his frigid hands.

It had been around this time when he first met the thief - a pitch black night, though it had been cloudier and close to raining. He'd walked dejectedly through the mud and the soggy grass, making his way to the Great Fairy's Fountain (though she had been split apart by the Skull Kid at that time, and he hadn't known it yet).

Someone shoved him hard in the back before he reached the fountain. And then he was facedown in the dirt, his forehead was bleeding, his arm had been wrenched, and his precious wedding mask was gone.

He'd chased after the thief, of course; though it was difficult to keep up when there was mud in his eyes and his shoes were stuck in the squelching grass, and before he knew it, the man was long gone. He hated himself for carrying the mask that day, but keeping it close was like keeping a part of Anju with him. It had given him the courage he needed to wake up and face each day in this small body.

The next time he saw the thief, though... things would be much, much different.

If he ever saw the thief again.

No. Kafei shook his head. He was going to fix this. Somehow, someway.

The old woman was passing by him then. She didn't even glance in his direction. Probably mistook him for one of the Bomber boys, still out playing despite the unreasonable hour. The one trying to pop the balloon still hadn't let up, after all.

He wasn't used to staying up this late anymore - not since the accident. He leaned back against the brick of the wall, breathing in the cold night air. If the Skull Kid hadn't gotten to him, he most likely would have spent the entirety of his evening at the milk bar with a group of friends. Though, this close to the wedding, he probably would have spent it with Anju... He wondered if the letter had gotten to her, if she'd already read it-

A loud crack filled the air. Then the thud of a body hitting the dirt. Kafei's eyes snapped open just in time to see the old woman on the ground.

"Stop! Thief!" she was saying.

Kafei's heart lurched into his chest.

There, only feet away from his scraggly little tree, was the same bald, prancing man who'd taken his mask.

Kafei jumped up without a second thought. His anger lent him the adrenaline rush he needed to chase after him.

"Stop!" he shouted, but the thief was far too fast. He scampered past the dazed guard and out into the night.

Kafei raced after him, arms and legs swinging, his breath escaping him in huge bursts. He was mere inches away from the gate when the guard suddenly threw out his spear to block the way.

"It's unsafe for children to leave-"

Kafei ignored his warning and vaulted neatly over the spear. He could hear the guard shouting after him, but by then he was already out in the fields, far enough away that the guard probably wouldn't give chase.

The thief was just ahead, running in the direction of the canyon. Kafei took another deep breath and shot after him.

"Stop!" he shouted again. "Get back here!"

The thief risked a glance over his shoulder.

He was grinning, teeth bared. And he cackled.

Kafei bit back a growl and forced himself to run just a bit faster.

The thief was frighteningly fast. He crossed the field, dodging bombchus with ease and skirting between the stone columns. Kafei found himself struggling to keep up with these shorter, stubbier legs.

He kept after the thief, but before he knew it, the man had disappeared into the darkness of the canyon. Kafei skidded to a halt at its entrance, breathing so hard that his lungs felt as though they were on fire.

When he calmed, he could hear the distant screech of the canyon birds, of the bombchus skittering about behind him. No more footfalls, no more of the thief's irritatingly high laughter. The man was gone, and Kafei knew how dangerous the canyon was after dark. Now wasn't the time to risk going in.

He couldn't follow the thief any further.

But at least now he finally knew where the man lived.


	4. Dawn of the Second Day

Ugh, my apologies for this being so short of a chapter! Especially since it took me forever to get it online. Unfortunately not much happens on the Second Day if you've done everything correctly. The Second Night, however...that's going to be a lot of fun. I'm really looking forward to writing it, haha.

* * *

**Dawn of the Second Day  
****48 Hours Remain**

He was sprawled on his cot, covered in the morning's rather sudden rain and mud, his hair plastered to the sides of his haggard face. Tak never showed up - probably running late for one of his many jobs, as usual - which meant that Kafei wouldn't have a chance to ask him about the thief until later that night.

But, in the end, that was just fine with Kafei. He was still angry about the whole incident, and upset, and exhausted. He could see the thief's face in hid mind's eye, the way that infuriating man had pranced about and smiled and _laughed _at him as he'd run.

It was strange, really. Kafei had spent the last few weeks locked up in the storeroom and hadn't been _too _bothered by it. Now, however, the thought of it drove him absolutely mad. He wanted nothing more than to run back to Ikana and find that damned thief.

But there was nothing he could do for the moment. The thief had disappeared and it would be foolish to enter the canyon without a plan. It was a dangerous place, especially recently; there were rumors that it was infested with creatures more dangerous than ever before. Skull children, gibdos... Perhaps that was why the thief had chosen it as his hideout. He knew no one would dare follow him.

Kafei eventually slept, though it was uneasy and restless, filled with images of the bald thief and a horned mask and the giant moon. He saw Anju waiting for him at the Clock Tower but he never made it to her side. Couldn't. The bells suddenly tolled, and the black sky above them shattered and fell.

Kafei woke in the late afternoon with a bitter taste in his mouth and the memories of his nightmares still dancing through his mind.

A bell suddenly rang. Kafei nearly jumped from his bed, terrified before he remembered that it wasn't the Clock Tower's; it was the much smaller one that Tak had set up outside the storeroom. The blasted thing was reserved primarily for those too eager to wait until nightfall to sell their sensitive goods to the Curiosity Shop, but sometimes children rang it as well; Kafei himself had run into that problem several days before. He was ready to ignore it completely when-

"Mail!" someone called.

The postman? Why in the world would he-

_Anju got my letter. She replied. She hasn't given up on me. _

Kafei donned his mask and all but ran out to the laundry pool. The postman was waiting for him on the bridge, pulling an envelope from the bag at his side. A boy was sitting on the bench nearby, but Kafei barely noticed him; for the moment, he only had eyes for that envelope in the postman's hand.

"A letter for you," the postman said, arm outstretched. Kafei took the envelope and instantly recognized Anju's boxy handwriting on the front. His heart leapt in his chest, and he tore the seal without a second thought.

"Everything is all right?" the postman asked him in a much quieter tone.

"Yes," Kafei said, never looking up. He had the letter in his hands now. They were shaking, gently.

The postman nodded once before he left to continue his route. And, for a time, Kafei was blind to the world, blind to everything but the words before him, ignoring the fact that the rain was still pelting down and soaking him to the bone.

Anju's letter was brief and hasty. She was okay (but of course he was already aware of this) and she missed him terribly. Guilt began to seep through him, but Kafei tried to push the feeling away. He was going to do what he had to. It couldn't be helped. This was all for her good and his own.

The ink on the paper was beginning to bleed with the rain. Kafei shielded it with his free hand and slowly made his way back to the door. The last paragraph of her letter mentioned that there was someone who could help them: a boy, dressed completely in green and accompanied by a tiny fairy. He was good, and he was apparently trustworthy, and he was willing to assist Kafei in his quest.

"_I know that you like to take care of things on your own,_" she'd written, "_but I hate this. I hate not knowing if you're okay or not, or what's happening to you. And I know that you won't see me yet, but please accept his help. This is all I can do for you right now. I love you. Always. I will wait for you._"

Kafei couldn't help but frown. A _boy_ - and a stranger, no less - wanted to help them? Why? What could he possibly hope to gain from this, aside from a good laugh at Kafei's expense? Anju trusted this child, and usually her judgment was enough for him, but...

Kafei threw open the door and stepped back into the drafty storeroom. He was dripping wet again and the paper envelope hung limp in his hand. He was about to tear the mask from his face when he heard a noise from above.

A creak. Footsteps on the wood floor. Someone else was there, and it definitely wasn't Tak. Kafei slowly began to reach for the concealed knife at his waist as he crept back up the stairs.

Who found him? Was it one of Tak's..."customers" trying to get into the store? One of the men his mother had hired that he hadn't quite managed to shake off? Kafei slunk into his room, prepared for anything-

Except for the green-clad boy that was standing beside his cot. A light - the fairy? - hovered close to his ear.

Kafei's arm fell back to his side. He knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but he couldn't seem to keep the dumbfounded expression from his face. He was glad then that he hadn't removed his mask.

The fairy moved excitedly. "Is that him?" she whispered. The boy turned to her, exchanged a glance, and looked back to Kafei with a curious frown.

There _was _something peculiar about him. Was it in his eyes, so serious despite his youth? He seemed older than his years, and perhaps wiser. Kafei could almost see what Anju had.

But he was still skeptical. This was just a _boy_, after all. A clever and generous one to be sure, but a child nonetheless. Kafei approached him warily, but he'd abandoned the idea of drawing his knife.

He jerked his head toward the silent child. "You're him? Anju wrote about you in her letter. Green clothes, green hat... It seems you are looking for Kafei. But... I have a feeling you already know who I am, or else you wouldn't be here," he added with a strained laugh. "You can keep a secret, yes?"

The boy's hands were still at his sides, but he nodded. His fairy moved in tight circles around his head; Kafei could not see her expression, but he knew she was watching him.

"Anju trusted you," Kafei said, taking a slow breath. "I will try to trust you as well."

He reached up and pulled the mask from his face.

He expected surprise. Horror, perhaps, when the boy saw the childlike face of the man he was supposed to find. But instead he was greeted with a simple curiosity - from the boy, at least.

"The Kafei we're looking for is an adult! When I look at you, I only see a child," the fairy said, wings twitching. "Are you someone else?"

"No. I am Kafei. I was...changed. Forced into this form by an imp wearing a mask. But that's not why I'm hiding," he said before the fairy could interrupt. "I went to visit the Great Fairy after this happened. I thought she could help. But I was attacked by a man - a grinning, prancing idiot - and he stole something important from me. A wedding ceremony mask-"

The fairy snorted. "You were just careless. You remind me of my partner."

Kafei bristled, hands clenching into tight fists. The boy didn't seem bothered by her words; perhaps he was used to them.

"I was quite happy before this all happened," Kafei said instead. "I was going to be married to a woman I loved. My family was content. The festival was just around the corner. But I was targeted by that thief because of what I was turned into."

"Oh my. I pity you," the fairy said in a voice that offered no pity at all.

"I know Anju is worried. My parents as well. But I can't see them until I have my wedding mask. I promised her - I promised Anju that I would bring it with me on the day of our wedding. And it's coming up so fast..."

_And I've spent all of this time brooding and feeling sorry for myself, _he thought with a stab of self-pity.

"Do you think you could do something for me? For Anju?" he asked, reaching for the cord around his neck. "Give this pendant to her. She'll know what it means."

He drew the necklace out and handed it to the boy, who took it with careful hands. It was a beautiful piece, wrought of gold metal and blue gems; he'd picked them knowing that they would go wonderfully with his new bride's eyes, and he'd once planned to give it to her as a present before the ceremony.

"Keep everything that we've talked about a secret," he said to the boy, who held the pendant close to his chest. "And please give that to her as soon as possible."

The boy nodded once more and left with fairy in tow. Kafei could have sworn that the little sprite had paused and glanced at him one more time before they disappeared; whether she was sneering, or watching him with genuine pity, he would never know.

He started to make his way back to the cot when he noticed that Anju's letter was still in his hand. It was crumpled by now, almost unintelligible after its time being soaked by the rain; but Kafei looked it over again, and again, until he had the symbols memorized.

She'd only wanted to help him. She missed him. She loved him. And, most importantly, she hadn't given up on him. Not after everything he'd put her through.

_I will wait for you_, she'd written. Would she, though? He could only hope...

He set the waterlogged paper on his desk and tried not to dwell on it. Tak's business would be opening in a few hours and the thief would be making his return soon, if Kafei's guess was correct. He had new goods now - that poor old woman's bomb supply - and he would be eager to sell them.

Kafei moved a few of the extra boxes around until he could stand on them, just high enough to see through one of the many cracks in the wall. The front room of the Curiosity Shop was just beyond, and Tak's large collection of ill-gotten goods were colored orange and red by the fading evening light.

Kafei positioned himself until he was comfortable.

He had all night, after all.


End file.
